Many of us come into Narcotics Anonymous feeling pretty poorly about ourselves. By comparison, the recovering addicts we meet at meetings may seem almost superhumanly serene. These wise, loving people have many months, even years of living in accordance with spiritual principles, giving of themselves to others without expecting anything back. We trust them, allowing them to love us until we can love ourselves. We expect them to make everything alright again.

Then the glow of early recovery begins to fade, and we start to see the human side of our NA friends and sponsor. Perhaps a fellow member of our home group stands us up for a coffee date, or we see two oldtimers bickering at a committee meeting, or we realize our sponsor has a defect of character or two. We're crushed, disillusioned-these recovering addicts aren't perfect after all! How can we possibly trust them anymore?

Somewhere between "the heroes of recovery" and "the lousy NA bums" lies the truth: Our fellow addicts are neither completely bad nor completely good. After all, if they were perfect, they wouldn't need this program. Our friends and sponsor are ordinary recovering addicts, just like we are. We can relate to their ordinary recovery experience and use it in our own program.

In early recovery, we often find ourselves going from unrealistic, grandiose self-perception to believing we are the worst person in history. It's that familiar addict pendulum swing— from one extreme to the other (with an optional sound effect):

I'm a spiritual giant deserving of high praise—WHOOSH!—I'm a worthless piece of trash. I'm the hottest person here—WHOOSH!—I'm repulsive and don't deserve to live.

I'm the only parent who knows what they're doing—WHOOSH!—I'm going to screw up my kid worse than my parents screwed me up.

Torchbearer of overblown self-importance—WHOOSH!—barren self-pity farm. Hero—WHOOSH!—zero.

Getting clean and working the Twelve Steps of NA can slow our addict pendulum and greatly narrow the distance of its swing. The humility that ensues from working Steps will help us to find that serene sweet spot somewhere in the middle. This place is where our true selves reside. Here lives reality.

Humility is like kryptonite to our self-indulgence, jealousy, and entitlement. It allows us to accept the beautiful muddle of our humanity, the truth of our perfectly imperfect selves, and our authentic place in the world. We can have reasonable expectations of ourselves and let others be who they are without our interference. We can find humor in our shortcomings and try to do better when criticized, instead of wanting to annihilate ourselves when we make a mistake.

Perhaps most crucially, we don't boast about our spiritual growth, especially in comparison to other members, nor do we overindulge in denigrating who we "used to be" when we were using. We were human then, and we're human now.